


Resuscitate

by inkstrain (orphan_account)



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:04:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4142235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/inkstrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've been keeping you alive, but not for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resuscitate

We're a mess, aren't we? Vodka and nicotine soaking our bones in powdered ash and liquid fire until we're dizzy, leaving the both of us sprawled on carpeted tile with our limbs splayed in odd and clumsy angles, scrambling for purchase on this friendship now turned _whatever the fuck this is is supposed to be called._ Out of sight, out of mind has never worked so well until tonight, and maybe this is why it's so strangely easy to let you sink into my pores, seeping in like radioactive air. 

Because he's not here, he never _quite_ is.

  


When you suddenly murmur out of nowhere, you take all of my breath with your inhales: _why not you?_ And this isn't the first time I've heard the question although it's not quite worded like that, being my own version goes a little more like: _why not me?_ Obviously neither of us know the answer, a pair of drunken idiots we are who think we've got this _just friends_ thing all figured out. We haven't even after all these years, if your lips on my neck is an indication, but it's not like I mind. 

I've wanted it there for a very long time.

  


It's my turn to do the asking when we don't move forward with question number one - _so why him?_ I've heard your excuses to question number two before of course, but I don't ever get tired of hearing them again. Maybe something will be different the next time you answer. Maybe I'll catch something I didn't know I missed. Something that will finally, _finally_ allow me to find an argument that's going to convince you it's unhealthy to stay with someone who's so good at being away.

Even while he's right _fucking_ there, holding your hand and keeping you all to himself. 

  


"You know how important the band is to him." You say, palms sweeping over the planes of my shoulders hesitantly as if you don't already know every inch _(and the fuck, of course you do)._ My own hands won't move though, stuck on top of those expanding lungs as I try to get all those breaths you've stolen from me back. "Oh, and you're not?" I snap, and I can't help the sarcasm that coats my words. 

Your smile in response is bittersweet, as always."I don't know. Am I Shima?"

And you know what? _You can keep all of my air and more_ \- I lean forward and down to capture those upturned lips, trying to maybe give you some of my more genuine smiles since you need them more than I do anyway. 

"I'm here with you," I pull away just the slightest for an inhale of oxygen that'll end up in your lungs and not mine, murmuring against your mouth. "Aren't I?"

It must have worked, because something changes in the broken way you beam up at me, the lines on your face fading away to be replaced with a softer expression that reminds me of grass and the babble of hyperactive children. 

  


_And we're ten again, your skin the color of soil at its richest, the grass behind you made all the greener, the sky overhead bluer, by the vivid contrast as I look down at your small, monkey-like frame for the first time, as if I'm looking at art class in a soccer field._

  


_Why not me Akira?_ I still want to ask, forehead buried on your collarbone, clutching at the fabric of your shirt with a print that _he_ designed. And I think you know I've always wanted to ask this as you find the fists bunching your top with possessiveness, loosening these knuckles that have wanted nothing more than to hit your face if only to knock some sense back into that head of yours-

But your phone rings, and the name on the caller ID does the job but with the exact opposite effect, so that you don't pull me close like you're supposed to.

  


"I will only ever want Taka."


End file.
